


Friend Like Me

by mixelpixel



Category: Klaus (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gen, May add relationships later, Meeting Alternate Selves, basically original pilot "Jesper" meets actual Jesper, im calling him Willem, this is my first fic i dont know how tags work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22746688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixelpixel/pseuds/mixelpixel
Summary: Willem Olive is quite happy with his job as a postman, and he is valued by his superiors. So when Postmaster Johanssen sends a message asking for a skilled postman to assist his son in Smeerensburg, well, who better for the task than Willem? But why do all the townsfolk greet him like he's an old friend? Why does the ferryman shoot him looks of concern when he speaks? And why on Earth do they keep calling him "Jesper?"If you haven't seen the original short for Klaus, please watch this:https://youtu.be/igioFrRQlLo
Comments: 12
Kudos: 51





	1. Good Morning, Madame!

"I am a decent postman. Scratch that, I am an _excellent_ postman. I absolutely do not deserve this treatment! I haven't broken any rules, I haven't talked back to my superiors, and I have made all of my deliveries on time. So why, in the name of all things holy, am I being sent to _Smeerensburg?!"_ Willem Olive sighed and scrubbed a hand down over his face. "Oh, sure," he continued muttering to himself- the man driving the carriage had stopped listening to him hours ago- "they _say_ that the postmaster's son has really fixed up the place, but I know the stories. Postmen get assigned to that, that _hellhole_ and they come back shaking in their boots, talking of battles and evil ferrymen and, _clans._ Ducking under tables every time they hear a bell. I don't care how good he is at his job, a _postman_ isn't going to fix all the problems with that town!" A cold breeze blew past and he shivered, hunkering into his jacket. The weather had been getting steadily cooler the closer he got to his destination, and he wasn't too proud to admit he wasn't used to the climate. A dense fog had also rolled in about an hour earlier. He just hoped he hadn't passed the docks.

The carriage soon crested a hill and he could see the foggy figure of a ferryman's shack in the distance. He sighed, "Oh thank God. It's about bloody time- who sends their best postman on a 14 hour trip without a speaking companion?" He glanced at the driver. "Not that you don't do a fine job of driving, but would it kill you to say something? Or even just acknowledge my existence?" The driver stopped the carriage and slowly turned to him, glaring hard enough to send shivers down his spine.

"Pal, you're lucky I haven't run the cart off the road just to get you to shut up." The man said, his voice dark and low. "Now get out."

Willem gulped and stammered out a "thanks" before stumbling out of the carriage. He had just grabbed his luggage when he had to jump back as the driver immediately snapped the reins and nearly ran him over. He let out a shaky breath and turned to walk over to the shack.

The shack was the very definition of "ramshackle." Boards varied in age, color, and wood type. The roof was slanted at two very distinct angles, but also bent in the middle to dangerous degrees. Willem could see the leaks in the roof from here. And there, behind the desk, was a man with a beer gut, dingy hat pulled low over his eyes, snoring loudly. Willem slowed his gait and gave the man a puzzled look. _Surely this man isn't the fabled ferryman that scared so many postmen away?_ he thought. _He looks like a walrus. Honestly..._ Willem rapped on the wood, causing the ferryman to snort awake.

"Hmwazzat?" He asked, intelligently. Willem opened his mouth to explain his presence, but the ferryman caught sight of him and his eyes lit up, "Oh, postman! Fancy seeing you here! Funny, I don't remember taking you off the island." The ferryman looked across the water with a confused expression. Then he shrugged, smirking, "Well, if you're making secret trips to the mainland, I suppose it's none of my business. But, for shame, postman," here he looked at Willem, pouting, "don't you trust me to keep your secrets?"

Willem blinked, opening and closing his mouth. Where did he even start with this man? He cleared his throat, "I do beg your pardon," the ferryman's brows shot up in surprise, then furrowed in confusion, "my name is Willem Olive. I'm the new postman assigned to Smeerensburg. Am I to assume you're the owner of this," he gestured to the tugboat, which was unarguably in better shape than the shack, but was still quite beaten up, "... this vessel?"

The ferryman furrowed his brows even further, but suddenly brightened and laughed. "Oh-ho! I get it! Ha ha, you got me, postman. Consider me duped, payback is yours. But, seriously, if you want to convince me you're someone else, maybe don't come up to me in the same outfit you wear every day? For cryin' out loud, you don't even got a mask."

Willem scowled, was this man making fun of him. "Look, _sir,_ I don't know who you are, and I'd like to think I'd remember meeting someone as rude as you. I only came here because my superiors inform me that you're the only one willing to make the trip to Smeerensburg. I have payment, and I need passage. I do _not_ appreciate being made fun of. Now, can we please make way? I need to meet Mr. Johannsen before sundown." The ferryman went from looking shocked, to looking confused, to looking downright concerned.

"Uh... sure, postman. Anchors aweigh."

The boat ride was much shorter than the carriage ride, but Willem felt like it was taking days. For one thing, his seasickness had him staying _very_ close to the edge of the boat. For another thing, the ferryman wouldn't stop sending him worried glances when he thought Willem wasn't looking. When Willem caught him and glared, he just looked straight ahead, frowning. And it was still so bloody cold, he couldn't stop shivering. He grabbed the winter coat and green scarf from his luggage, but the ocean spray seemed to soak straight through and chilled him to the bone.

"I-is it always this c-cold?" he asked, teeth chattering.

The ferryman frowned, "You asked that the first time. Didn't think you were the type to repeat questions, postman." Willem scowled and turned back toward the front of the boat. He had most certainly not asked the man any question of the sort. He was about to say as much when he noticed something through the fog. It looked like... a whale skeleton? He watched as they passed it, and almost missed when the town came into view. It was a large town, and the houses all varied in size and shape. There were people walking in the street, going into the various shops, and children were running around playing with toys. There was also a layer of snow on the ground, despite it now being April. The townsfolk didn't seem to notice the snow and the cold, or at least were unbothered by it.

The boat pulled slowly up to the docks before stopping, rocking gently. Willem grabbed his luggage and was about to depart when the ferryman approached him. The man opened his mouth, shut it, and looked at him, searching for something on Willem's face. When he didn't find it, he huffed. "Listen postman, not that I care or anything but... did you... that is, do you... have you hit your head harder than normal lately?"

Willem stepped back, "I do beg your pardon?"

The ferryman waved a hand vaguely, "I'm just sayin', we both know you're not the most graceful fella," (Completely false, Willem had taken ballet lessons as a child) "so I'm wondering if all the head injuries are... I dunno, affecting you? You do remember me, yeah?" Willem frowned. As much as he wanted to assure the other man he was perfectly graceful, thank you, he had a feeling that last question was more important to answer.

"Now who's repeating questions? As I told you before we boarded, no, I do not know you. I thank you for the passage in your vessel, but as I've already paid you, I must bid you good day." And with that, he brushed past the ferryman and down the gangplank before the other man could react.

Back on the boat, Mogens groaned and ran a hand down his face. So, the postman likely had some form of amnesia, or some other serious brain damage. It wasn't really his business, and the postman didn't even like him. Still, Maybe he should tell Miss Alva or something. He huffed, "Nah." She'd find out soon enough. All Mogens wanted right now was a drink. So, shoving his hands in his pockets, he ignored the worry in his head and made for the bar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Willem wasn't sure what to expect from the townspeople in Smeerensburg. The postmen that had tried and failed to establish a working post office didn't like to talk about their time in the town, preferring to try and forget it. What Willem was not expecting was for the townsfolk to smile warmly at him like he was an old friend, tipping their hats with an "Afternoon, postman!" Willem was too baffled to do more than nod in greeting as he made his way to the hill the post office was supposed to be on. He could see a small house up at the top, but he scoffed at the idea that a postman could send the 14,000 letters in a year that Postmaster Johansenn was so proud about from _that_ building. And why hadn't anyone sent a cart for him? He didn't have an extraordinary amount of luggage, but he didn't like the idea of lugging it uphill in the snow. Speaking of the snow, it was still freezing outside, and he had had to pull his scarf over his nose to keep it from freezing off. He cursed as his foot slipped, and he barely caught himself. "Blast this hill! That Johansenn'd better have a bloody good reason for not helping me out."

Finally, Willem approached the small building. He frowned as he saw that it was indeed the post office, judging by the sign. Still, it was bound to be warmer in the tiny building than out here, ankle-deep in snow. He tromped over and set his trunk down before knocking on the door.

"It's open, Alva!" came a high, nasally voice from inside. Willem didn't know who this Alva was, but if the door was open, he wasn't complaining. He opened it and peeked inside.

"Excuse me, Postman Johansenn?" The man wasn't in the room, as far as he could tell. It was really too small to hide in, so he guessed the man was probably up the stairs on the side, if he was here at all. "My name is Willem Olive, I've been sent by Postmaster Robert to assist you."

"Really?" came the same voice from earlier, obviously from upstairs, "This is the first I've heard of it. The townsfolk give you any trouble? I'd ask if the ferryman did, but there's no point, since Mogens _is_ trouble.

Willem chuckled, relieved that the ferryman didn't just have something against him personally. "No, no trouble. They actually acted like they've known me for years."

" _Really?_ I mean, I know they're acting nicer than when I first showed up, but that's some serious improvement. If you'd known them as long as I have, you'd be surprised, too, trust me."

Willem nodded, even though the other man couldn't see him, "I've heard the stories. Still, they almost seem unbelievable with how the town is now." Willem set his trunk down near the door before turning his attention to the small stove near the wall. He pulled his gloves off and sighed as feeling slowly returned to his fingers. He heard the stairs creaking behind him as Johansenn came down.

"Yeah, the town's downright charming now. So, is this your first assignment, or did your higher-ups want to teach you a lesson?"

Willem laughed, "No, to both; I've been a postman for 15 years now, and I was on my last route for 5 years straight. To be honest, I think it's _because_ the town is so much nicer that they sent me. They needed someone with experience to help you now that you have the line up and running." Willem turned so his back was facing the heater and saw postman Johansen was sorting the mail, his back turned to Willem, but there was something... familiar about the man. There were a few chickens nesting in some cubbies that looked newer than the others and, instead of letters of the alphabet, had what must be the chickens' names on them.

The postman paused in his sorting. "Yeah? I guess that makes sense. If you're as good at your job as you say, then they would never have sent you here two years ago. Wouldn't risk one of their competent postmen. Ah, listen to me," he said, shaking his head, "you introduced yourself the second you walked in and I haven't returned the favor!" At this, he turned around, hand outstretched and smiled. "Jesper Johansenn, at your service. Well, I guess technically I'm your- what, boss now? Huh."

Willem's eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped. He opened and closed his mouth, gaping like a fish trying to make sense of what he was seeing. He knew that face, that hair, that figure, even the smile was just like-

"What? What is it, do I got something on my face?" Willem let out a slightly hysterical bark of laughter, startling Jesper.

"Well, yes, quite! Mine!" He pulled down his scarf and removed his hat and it was now Jesper's turn to look like he'd been punched in the stomach. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he stammered, "Y-yo-wait, no, no, nonono _wait_ how is-me-you-"

**"You look just like me!"**


	2. Doppelganger?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willem and Jesper have a mental breakdown. Alva is there.

The post office was quiet, the only sounds being the soft clucking of the chickens. Jesper and Willem stared at each other in shock and disbelief, eyes roaming to try to find a seam of a mask, an unfamiliar freckle, _anything_ that didn't scream "Well, I've finally gone crazy!" Each of them would open their mouth, to say something and break the silence, but the words would die and fizzle in their mouths, and they'd shut them again. Several minutes passed in this manner, until a knock at the door made both men jump nearly a foot.

"Jesper?" came a woman's voice from outside, "Are you in there? It's nearly evening, are you going up to Klaus's cabin?"

Jesper's eyes widened, "Alva," he whispered, then continued louder, "uh, n-no, something-something's come up and I probably can't today! Not until I get uh... this s-sorted..." Jesper never broke eye contact with Willem, who was becoming increasingly confused.

The voice outside scoffed, "Did you get buried in mail again? Because I'm not about to treat your papercuts agai-"

Alva's voice came to a sudden stop as she stepped into the post office and found two identical pairs of eyes staring at her, looking just as bewildered as she felt. She stepped back, the look on her face perfectly conveying "WHAT" "WHY" and "How is this my life?" at the same time. She inhaled deeply, "Jesper. You never told me you had a twin."

Jesper blinked before remembering that, typically, in conversation, you respond when people say things to you. "Ah, yeah, well, that's uh- because I don't. Have one."

Alva nodded in understanding, even though she didn't understand a _goddamned thing_ that was happening. "I see," (she did not), "then who is this?" She gestured to the... _other_ Jesper, the one that hadn't spoken yet.

He realized a little faster that he needed to speak when spoken to. "Ah, quite, madame. Willem Olive, at your service. I was just assigned to Smeerensburg to assist Mr. Johansenn... We've ah, just met you see- right before you came in."

Alva blinked and nodded slowly. "Right. Wasn't expecting your voice to be so deep, or... British..." She sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of her nose. "But I mean, sure, why not? The only two postmen assigned to this town just happen to look exactly alike and have never met and one of you is _British._ What are the odds? Actually, scratch that, I should honestly expect weird shit at this point." She grumbled and glared at the two men, "You stay here and get to know each other instead of gaping like dead fish. I'm going to go get Klaus. He has more experience with this kind of weird, magic-y shit." She lowered her voice to a murmur, "And more patience for it." She slammed the door as she left, causing a few chickens to stir before they settled back down.

The awkward silence began to settle back down in the post office. Jesper panickedly said the first thing he could think of to dispel it, "So, uh, that's Alva the uh, the schoolteacher. She uh, she's kinda intense."

Willem nodded. "So, the two of you are a couple, then?"

Jesper choked, caught between laughing and awkwardly coughing, "Wh-a-kh, oh God, ha-khang on, no, we're not- I mean, she's nice and all, but we don't _see_ each other like... that. You know?"

Willem had followed at least some of the noises Jesper had made, so he nodded again. "I see. Well, what's a nice girl like her doing in Smeerensburg, of all places?"

"First of all, she's not a girl, she's a woman; secondly, I haven't asked because I'd like my arms to stay attached to my body, thank you very much. Now," Jesper turned as he spoke, walking toward the mail counter to pull out two chairs, "it's at least a half hour's ride to Klaus's cabin and I, for one, would prefer not to spend it in total silence. So," he sat backwards on the chair and rested his chin on his folded arms, "tell me about yourself, Mr. Olive!"

"Oh, please, do call me Willem," he said as he took a seat, "'Mr. Olive' makes me sound so old."

Jesper smirked and extended a hand, "In that case, a pleasure to meet you, Willem. Call me Jesper. Mr- er, _Postmaster General_ Johannsen is my father."

Willem grinned and shook the offered hand. "Charmed, I'm sure, Jesper."

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Wait, ho ho! Wait, wait, so you're telling me that you and this Klaus fellow went hurtling off a cliff, and," he wheezed, "a child saw you and thought it was _magic?!"_ Willem was laughing so hard there were tears streaming down his face. "A magical sleigh pulled by flying _reindeer!"_ he howled with laughter at that, falling flat off his chair.

Jesper chuckled, "Yeah, and the best part was _Klaus,_ the big, stone-faced mystical man, he absolutely _lost it,_ laughed so loud he scared all the birds away. It's ridiculous!"

Willem was quietly giggling now, catching his breath. He climbed back up into his chair, still grinning like a loon. "So, that's all you had to do to get 14,000 letters out of this place? Convince the children you were magic? Which, mind you, is an impressive feat, but..." he trailed off, the _that can't be all you did_ implied.

Jesper smiled, "Oh no, that was only Phase One of my brilliant sche- er, plan to get letters." He twiddled his thumbs and looked at the ceiling. "Phase Two was... complicated."

Willem sat a little straighter in his chair. "Oh? Do tell."

Jesper looked at him, then back at the ceiling, then at a wall. "I... hm. Well, I'm not sure how to put- that is, it was really complicated, and kind of personal. Not just me, you understand, but-"

Hoof-beats startled Jesper out of his rambling, and the men heard a low voice call "Whoah, easy girls." They could hear the snow crunch as someone jumped down from their sleigh. Jesper suddenly looked incredibly self-conscious, straightening his hat and brushing nonexistent dirt from his uniform. Willem could hear Mrs. Alva outside, talking quietly, but as she got closer he could pick out some phrases.

"... just saying, don't be shocked if he finds you intimidating. You're practically a walking mountain. You could- I don't know, smile?... _Eugh,_ God, nevermind, do _not_ do that, that's way more horrifying."

A man huffed, "Alva, why are you so concerned about me freaking the new postman out?" A pause as the two came to the porch.

"...Honestly, I'm a little worried he'll freak you out, too." And apparently Alva didn't want to explain herself, because the door swung open after that and she gestured to Willem and Jesper with a murmured "Ta-da~"

Klaus, because the giant of a man in the doorway couldn't have been anyone else, was standing dead still. It didn't even look like he was breathing, and Jesper noted he had never seen the man's eyes go this wide. Willem wasn't doing much better, because _Jesus,_ he'd thought Jesper was exaggerating how tall and wide Klaus was, but this man was like a bear! A huge, quiet, bear holding an ax, and Willem gulped before squeaking out a "Hello."

Jesper cleared his throat, "Before you ask, he's not my twin, or even my brother. I literally just met him today."

Klaus looked between Jepser and Willem, eyebrows slowly coming back down from his hairline. "...How?"

Jesper snorted, "How should I know? I mean, really, what are the odds of this happening? A man who looks just like me, and is a postman, just happens to get assigned to the same small town as me. You think it's magic? Like the magic wind up near your cabin?"

Klaus looked a little surprised and Willem had no idea what any of that was about, but now the large man's attention was on him and he tried to keep his knees from knocking. "... I don't think _he's_ magic, if that's what you mean," Willem wasn't sure if that was an insult or not, "but, I suppose it's possible that... whatever forces brought you here could be at work." Willem tried not to jump as the big man took a step towards him, but he only extended a hand to Willem. "Call me Klaus."

Willem took the offered hand, which was way warmer than it had any right being in this weather. "Willem Olive, postman, at your service."

Klaus tilted his head curiously, "Hm. Voice is different." before he silently stepped back to the door.

"So," Alva clapped her hands together, a very teacher-like gesture, "now that we've all been acquainted, how do we go about this?" The three men looked at her in confusion. She scowled, "Postman stuff. Your jobs. Obviously, the townspeople are gonna be confused about the similarities between you two, especially the kids, and we don't even have a place for Willem to stay."

Jesper smacked a hand to his forehead, "Shoot! You're right, I totally forgot! This place only has the one bedroom, and the one tiny bed. I mean, there's the town inn, but that's not a permanent fix, and we don't even know- how long are you staying?" The last part was directed at Willem, who tapped his chin in thought.

"I think it was... 2 years? Yes, 2 years initially and then I can choose to stay or leave, and offer a preliminary report. See if you need more workers, repairs, that sort of thing. They all jumped as a shelf one of the chickens had been roosting on fell. The chicken didn't even wake up, just slid to the side of the now tilted board.

Jesper huffed, "Oh, sure, _now_ they offer repairs."

"... Right," Alva continued as if nothing had ha[[ened, "so we'll definitely need something more permanent than the inn. And we may need to get you somewhere to stay while we fix the roof," she nodded at the 'patch job' that still let copious amounts of snow in, "But the inn's fine for tonight. At least for Willem. Do you have any place you can stay while the roof is fixed _properly,_ Jesper?"

Jesper pouted at having his repair job criticized, but he couldn't think of any place he could stay in town. Alva's schoolhouse was only meant for one occupant- not that she'd let him stay- and he wasn't close enough to any of the townsfolk to ask for a bed there. Mogens... Jesper was pretty sure Mogens lived in the pub while he was here. He jumped as Klaus set a warm hand on his shoulder.

"He can stay with me. If you don't mind?" Klaus looked at him, and Jesper realized he was genuinely asking if _he_ minded.

Jesper realized his mouth was hanging open and stammered, "Uh, yeah! I mean, if you don't mind- which, why would you offer if you mind, unless you're just trying to be nice- oh God, don't just do this out of pity- WHAAAT ARE YOU-" Jesper was cut off as Klaus lifted him over one shoulder, chuckling.

"You think too much. I don't mind. But, it is getting late, so we need to get a move on if we want to be at the cabin by nightfall." He nodded to the other two people as Jesper sputtered indignantly, "Mrs. Alva. Mr. Willem." and he turned and left, Jesper shouting about manners and "warning somebody before you do that" before getting drowned out by hoofbeats.

Alva turned to Willem, who was standing in utter shock, "Well, then. Shall we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They checked Willem into the inn with little issue, although the inkeeper did look confused about the name he wrote down, before shrugging it off. It wouldn't be the first time someone had stayed at her inn under a fake name, and as long as the postman didn't cause trouble, she wouldn't mention it. Or shoot him.

This is how Willem found himself to be in a modest room with a small stove, at 10 p.m., writing in his personal journal. He was still a bit shaken by everything he had been through that day. A man that looked exactly like him? A giant who lived in the woods? A snarky, slightly terrifying schoolteacher? He chuckled to himself, "This should be an interesting couple of years."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Also, may rewrite this a bit later, but gotta publish it first. Please leave feedback! Next chapter, Mogens gets pranked >:)


	3. A Waste of a Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The townsfolk finally meet the new postman! Although, they probably could have prepared better for it.

After preparing for the day and paying the innkeeper, Willem stepped out into the town square. He nodded to the few people who greeted him, not ready to explain to them this early in the morning that he wasn't _that_ postman. Speaking of Jesper, the man was supposed to be meeting him soon to discuss housing the two of them. However, glancing around, it seemed that Klaus and Jesper were still making their way from the cabin. Jesper had mentioned it was quite deep in the woods...

Just as he was about to head back to his room to get out of the cold, Willem saw a familiar looking man sitting at a table outside the pub. The ferryman - Morgan, was it? - didn't seem to notice Willem as he knocked back a tankard of what Willem could only assume was ale. How anyone could stomach alcohol this early in the morning was beyond Willem, but he supposed that ferrymen had stronger stomachs for it than postmen. Still, Willem didn't care to imagine the impending hangover that would surely follow. He supposed he should go over and explain the whole "twin postmen" situation to the man, but he honesty wasn't sure how to go about it. Yesterday, the man seemed convinced that Willem was just Jesper with a concussion. Which, to be fair, was perhaps a more logical assumption to make than "new postman that just happens to look exactly like the old postman."

Willem's thoughts were interrupted by someone calling his name, and he quickly whipped his head around to see Alva waving him over from what appeared to be the schoolhouse. He walked quickly, long legs taking large strides over the snow-covered walkways. "Good morning, Miss Alva! Tell me, is it always so dreadfully cold here?"

Alva gave Willem a quick glance over, taking in the green scarf and customary postman's uniform - and lack of a coat - and huffed. "It's actually quite warm for the season. But I think you'll find that layers are a must in this town. Unless you like feeling the wind blow right through to your bones?" She raised an eyebrow, as if seriously asking if that was what he wanted, then shrugged. "There's a tailor right down the street who would be _delighted_ to sell you a coat, since it's likely the only other person who's bought one in the past twenty years was Jesper."

Willem shivered and looked to the street she was referring to. He could see a shop with clothing items displayed in the window, right next to the butcher's and... what appeared to be a shop selling exclusively medieval weaponry. He shot Alva a questioning, panicked look. She snorted, "Relax, just be glad those things are in _there_ now, as opposed to stabbed into every building here. It's sort of a," she waved her hand vaguely, "museum-slash-antique shop?"

Willem blinked, and once again was eternally grateful that the town was nowhere _near_ the nightmare he'd heard about before. He was about to say as much when he noticed a small sleigh coming down the steep hill from the direction of the mountains. He could see Klaus, whose massive frame was easily noticeable even this far away, and a small blue figure, which was probably Jesper's much smaller frame. Yes, that had to be Jesper, Willem could hear him rambling to the larger man from here. Lord, but the man loved to talk. Not that Willem could say much, mind; he had been known for his Shakespearian-like rants in college.

"Ah, right on schedule," drawled Alva, very much used to this. "By which I mean almost an entire hour later than they were meant to be here." She leaned in close to Willem, whispering conspiratorially, "Klaus can never stand to wake Jesper up when he oversleeps. He's such a big softie. Makes you wanna hurl."

Willem had no idea what she was talking about, but nodded anyway. The sleigh slowed to a stop at the edge of the street, and Jesper clambered out, nearly falling face-first in the snow. Klaus merely huffed and stepped lightly out of the carriage. He carried himself with a sureness and grace that was unexpected for his size. Jesper, meanwhile, moved like a foal just learning to walk. Willem understood what the ferryman meant about the man being clumsy, now.

"Sorry we took so long! Warm blankets have a surprisingly strong magnetic pull on cold mornings. Especially after months of sleeping in a drafty old shack." Jesper sauntered over, looking quite put out that he couldn't have stayed in bed longer. Klaus glanced up at the shack in question, frowning thoughtfully. "It may take a while to fix, especially with the toys and the house to build." 

Jesper nodded, "Well, then, I guess I'll just have to continue staying in your _wonderfully_ cozy cabin with your _wonderfully_ warm quilts until it's all fixed." He tensed, looking at Klaus nervously. "That is, if you don't mind, of course. Because I can always just, uh, stay with- well there's the, but-" he cut himself off as Klaus placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't mind. You can stay as long as you need." His voice was soft, but deep enough to be easily heard. Jesper nodded, letting out a _whoosh_ of air, nervousness dissipating as he smiled up at the taller man, who in turn stared back warmly. Willem's eyebrows shot up as he looked to Alva, silently asking if he was reading the room correctly. Alva was shaking her head, but by her smile he knew it was with fond exasperation. 

The soft, sweet atmosphere was broken by the sound of a loud gasp and what sounded like shattering glass, and the group looked over to see Mogens gaping like a fish, gaze flicking between Jesper and Willem in clear confusion and disbelief. "W-wait a minute now, just- just what was in that _drink_?!" Mogens shouted, glancing worriedly at the now shattered tankard.

Alva glared at Jesper, who was looking a bit sheepish. "Right. Mogens. Forgot we haven't explained the situation to... well, anyone, actually." Sure enough, several townspeople had come to see what the hell the ferryman was yelling about, since he wasn't especially prone to doing so, and were now staring with varying expressions of surprise and shock at the two postmen. Willem thought he saw one of the men looking at the pitchfork in the "antique shop" like it could help fix the situation. Thankfully, before the other townsfolk could get any similar ideas, Jesper cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"Uh, excuse me, everyone! So sorry for the confusion, but _this_ -" he dragged Willem forward by the elbow, "is our new postman! Mr. Willem Olive! And no, before you ask, we are not related!... I think," he muttered the last sentence to himself, and Willem decided to interrupt before Jesper started rambling again. He stepped forward and tipped his hat, "A pleasure to meet you all. I look forward to serving my part in this community."

None of the townspeople spoke for a few seconds, until a little girl piped up, "Mommy, do all Mr. Postmans look like our Mr. Postman?"

That startled a laugh out of Willem, and a few of the townspeople. After that, questions and formal introductions went much smoother. Even Mogens calmed down from his hysterics and begrudgingly repaid the barkeeper for the broken tankard. He came up to the group after the crowd thinned. "So, Postman-" he stopped as both Willem and Jesper turned toward him. "...Right, that's not gonna work..." He frowned, scratching his chin before smirking, "So! Loverboy," Jesper scowled, "I know you said the two of you here aren't related, but c'mahn," he gestured his hand between the two of them, "you can tell your ol' pal Mogens! I would never do anything so distasteful as spread the word if, say, there was some secret affair that just so happened to involve the Postmaster General." He waggled his eyebrows for emphasis.

Jesper spluttered and stammered, trying to come up with a retort but obviously feeling too flustered to do so. Willem frowned and stepped forward, "Now see here, ferryman," Mogens turned to him, eyes alight with mischief, "I don't like what you're insinuating about my or Mr. Johanssen's parents, and I ask that you refrain from saying these thoughtless things in the future. Additionally," he arched a brow, "why, if he _were_ trying to hide a scandalous affair, would the Postmaster General send the _offspring_ of said affair to the one place that people would see us both and make assumptions like that?"

Mogens, for his part, merely shrugged, "So he wouldn't have to come clean about it himself? Cause he had a guilty conscience? For the theatrics and drama?"

Willem frowned. "Right. Well, this has been delightfully insightful, but I'm afraid I must bid you ado. Mr. Klaus and I have to discuss the whereabouts of my lodgings, and we have spent too much time here already. Jesper, I believe you are also part of these deliberations?" Jesper had finally stopped tripping over his own words and nodded, glaring at Mogens. "Right then. Let's be off shall we?" And with that, he turned on his heel and headed back to where Alva and Klaus were standing by the sleigh.

"Wow," said Alva, voice flat, "I'd almost be impressed if I didn't know that Mogens talks exclusively out of his ass, and that he just ignores when people argue with him." She snorted, "He just likes riling people up. Probably shouldn't have implied Jesper's dad was cheating, though." Jesper looked offended, " _Probably?!_ "

Willem just sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! It's been a while! Sorry about that, I never really log into my ao3 much when I use it (and DuckDuckGo doesn't do "remember me") so I kind of forgot the ideas I had for this fic. I decided that pranking Mogens will have to come after introductions, otherwise it's just mean. Not sure I like how this chapter turned out but that's showbiz, babeyyy. Hopefully it won't be too long until the next update, but I make no promises, as I have a job now. It's draining. Love all of you!
> 
> 1/31/21 edit, changed rating to explicit for the fuck word

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little idea I had, probably won't go for too many chapters. Please let me know if I should continue with this!


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